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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23623597">Beautiful Ghosts</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayekoi/pseuds/kayekoi'>kayekoi</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A look at death, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, a friend's suggestion, what happened after the veil</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:47:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,073</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23623597</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayekoi/pseuds/kayekoi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>𝘚𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘶𝘴 𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘥𝘰 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘯𝘥. </p>
<p>What happened after Sirius Black fell through the veil? And perhaps even more pressing—who was waiting for him on the other side?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sirius Black/Original Male Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Beautiful Ghosts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Death shouldn’t be this peaceful. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sirius knows he should be panicking. He should be screaming, reaching for something that would take him back to the world of the living. He should be in pain, he should be angry—angry at Bellatrix Lestrange, angry at the world, angry at himself. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Instead, he feels...nothing. He isn’t empty, not in the way a dead person ought to be. He’s simply calm. His mind is clear, as if he’s only a spectator watching everything unfold from afar. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sirius Black is dead. And the only thing he can do is wait and see what’s coming at the other end. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He briefly wonders if he’s made it already. Will he be greeted by pearly white gates, or the burning fires of hell? Or maybe something else entirely? There are thousands of religions out there, with thousands of different afterlives to accompany them. Maybe he should have learned more about them, if only to prepare for this moment. There’s a lot of things he should have done, he considers, but it’s too late for that now. Because now, there’s only what comes ahead. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Somehow, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows</span>
  </em>
  <span> something is ahead. He’s going somewhere. He must still be falling, because his arms and legs are only touching empty space. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His eyelids are heavy, but he manages to lift them, and is immediately blinded by light. He shuts his eyes again, tightly. This must be the veil. He’s falling through it, falling through some sort of space between worlds. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sirius begins to notice a dull roar. It’s faint, but it reminds him of the sound of the air when he flies. It grows louder and louder, until the sound begins to hurt his ears. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He forces his eyes open, bracing himself for the blinding light. Instead, he is able to make out blurry shapes in the distance. Buildings? Lights? He tries to blink to clear his vision, but the air is whipping in his face, stinging his eyes and making it even harder to see. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The air. There’s air, all around him, tossing his clothes around and whipping through his hair. Just as he realizes he’s not somewhere in the veil, he slams into the ground. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sirius’s entire body tenses, expecting pain, but there isn’t any. He lifts himself up, brushing the dirt off of his robes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sirius looks around. He landed somewhere in the middle of a field, surrounded by green grass. It’s dark, but he can make out that the field ends at the edge of a forest. A very familiar looking forest. Sirius whirls around, and towering in front of him is none other than Hogwarts castle. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>How could he be back at Hogwarts? He was just at the Ministry. Maybe...maybe the veil is a portal, although he has no clue why it would lead to Hogwarts. Then again, the magic often works in mysterious ways, and the veil is no different. Perhaps it just put him in a place that he has a connection to, or maybe it’s completely random and Sirius just happened to end up here. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It doesn’t matter</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Sirius finds himself thinking. He knows he should care more. He should be worrying, or at the very least not be completely apathetic, but...he can’t bring himself to truly care. Harry is still at the Ministry. He should be trying to get back and help him, but he feels no urgency to do so. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That only makes him think he’s still in the veil. He’s truly dead, and the only reason he doesn’t care is because he knows deep down that there’s nothing he can do anymore.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sirius begins to walk around the perimeter of the castle. Lights flicker in the distant tower windows, and the moon shines bright upon the grass. The wind rustles quietly through the trees, just barely breaking the silence. Sirius can even hear his own footsteps as he wanders the grounds. He doesn’t have a direction or a destination. Maybe the nature of his death took that away from him. Maybe the dead continue on because they yearn for a destination, but are doomed to never find one.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a laugh in the distance. Sirius stops, and turns to look in the direction of the sound. It’s hard to make out in the darkness, but he can see a few dark shapes moving quickly across the field, dashing toward the castle. Sirius inches closer to get a better look, and his eyes widen.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s the figure closest to him, a boy with messy black hair. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Harry,” Sirius says out loud. He doesn’t think. He breaks out into a run, shouting. “Harry! Wait!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He can’t believe he let himself feel like nothing mattered. How can he do that to his godson? Maybe he isn’t even dead, and the veil is some sort of time machine that sent him back to before he ever set foot in the ministry. He needs to warn Harry. It’s a trap. It’s all a ploy to corner him. It doesn’t matter why he was dropped off here at Hogwarts, not if he can make sure that Harry is alright. Even if he's just a ghost now, he needs to know. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He calls out for his godson again, but Harry doesn’t even flinch. He’s almost at the castle now, with Sirius just behind him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Harry!” He calls again, and reaches out to close the distance between them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Instantly, Harry stops running. Sirius has no time to register, and runs straight into him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Instead, he falls right through him. Sirius stumbles, but regains his balance quickly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What…,” he mutters. He looks down at his hands. They appear solid enough, just like always. So how did he…?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sirius turns around.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And is face-to-face with a boy who is not Harry.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He has messy black hair and glasses, but there’s no scar on his forehead. His eyes aren’t green, but hazel, yet everything else about him is nearly identical to Harry. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There is no doubt in his mind: it’s James Potter. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Seeing him here, alive and well, before everything that happened—it’s like a punch to the gut. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Prongs,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> hisses a voice behind him, “what are you doing just standing there? Get your—”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait,” the boy says, “Up there, in the window. Is it just me, or is something floating?” He points somewhere above him, towards the castle. His eyes widen with a sudden realization. “My invisibility cloak!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t wait for an answer before taking off, running straight through Sirius as if he isn’t even there.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Where in the hell are you going?” Shouts the same voice from earlier, which must be one of the other boys he saw.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sirius can only stare at the empty space where James just was. There’s no mistaking it—that was definitely James Potter. Not the James Potter Sirius last remembers seeing, but a James who looks no older than sixteen. It makes no sense, unless the veil truly was cursed with some sort of time-altering magic, and Sirius has somehow managed to transport back twenty years to a time when James is still a student at Hogwarts.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>If that truly was James, then that means the other people he was with could only be the Marauders. Sirius turns around. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Prongs has gone mad,” says one of them as he walks towards the castle. It’s Remus.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Peter is twiddling his thumbs a bit farther back, and next to him is a younger version of Sirius. Sirius blinks. He walks closer to his younger self, who doesn’t even notice his approach. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s one thing to look at an old picture, and another thing entirely to see your younger self standing before you. Sirius is at a loss. How does the veil even have this power?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“As if that’s news,” Sirius’s younger self quips. “He’s just desperate to get his special magic blanket back.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Peter chuckles, and the two head inside. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sirius watches as they enter the castle, and suddenly it clicks. He’s no time traveler. This is a memory. He remembers when this happened—it was in their fifth year of Hogwarts. James couldn’t find his invisibility cloak, so he and the Marauders went out looking for it. Sirius insisted that James misplaced it, but James was convinced someone took it, because he’d never be stupid enough to lose it. In the end, James was right, because the one who stole it was…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A wave of sadness came over Sirius. It was Owen. Sirius is tired of seeing ghosts. It already hurt enough to see James, he didn’t think he had the strength to go look Owen in the eyes. Even then, he begins to feel something else stirring inside him, urging him to go seek him out. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It all started in his third year. Hogwarts functioned similar to a small town in the sense that everyone knew of each other, more or less. Still, it was impossible to miss Owen Clarke. He always did well in school, and was rather popular on top of that—not to mention quite good-looking, at least to Sirius. He was completely fascinated by magic, which meant that he fit well in Ravenclaw. It also meant that when Sirius got assigned to be his partner for a project on the history of enchanted objects, he was looking forward to not doing all the work himself.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They decided to meet in the library one evening and finish the entire thing in one night. It was just a paper. How hard could it be?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As it turned out, very hard. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Why don’t we just write about this?” Sirius suggested, holding up a book titled, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Wizards Take Flight: Brooms, Rugs, and More.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Owen said after giving it a glance. “Let’s keep looking.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sirius returned to the pile of books he’d assembled, and fished through them until he found something else that caught his eye. His criteria were simple: not too long and not too boring. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What about the history of magic and muggle technology in the 20th century?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Owen perked up at that. He took the book from Sirius, flicked through it, then set it back down with a short sigh. “I’ve read this one.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Perfect!” said Sirius. “Then you can just tell me what it’s about and we can get started.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Owen made a noncommittal noise. “Okay, but only if we can’t find anything else.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sirius groaned. “We’ve already been looking for thirty minutes, Owen.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Has it really been that long?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” Sirius had to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying something insulting.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Owen seemed suddenly aware of Sirius’ annoyance. “Oh. Right. Sorry.” He blushed. “So, er, the muggle technology book. It talks a bit about how Muggle history affects Wizard History. Technology has grown so much in the past seventy years. Life now is almost nothing like it was back in 1900, and that affects Wizards, too.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He went on about history and electricity and magic, and the more he talked, the more into it he got. Sirius forgot all about being annoyed at Owen, instead just focusing on how his eyes lit up as he talked about magic, how he emphasized each word with his hands. Sirius realized he was content to let Owen ramble all night, even if that meant they didn’t get their project done. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Unfortunately, all the talking attracted the librarian, who told them they either had to shut up or move somewhere else. The boys mumbled their apologies. Once she was gone, Owen began drumming the table with his fingers. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The words came out of his mouth before Sirius could even think. “Do you want to see something cool?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Owen paused for a moment. “Like what?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sirius smirked. “Just something magic I’ve been working on.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You make magical objects outside of school?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span> “I need something to pass the time between classes and homework. Besides, all that can get so boring. Don’t you ever wish you could do something real, for once?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A strange look passed over Owen’s face. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” asked Sirius.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You just don’t seem like the type. With all the fooling around you and your friends do, I never would have guessed you did school work in your free time. For fun.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I am full of surprises. It’s part of my charm. Besides, don’t you do the same?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He laughed. “I guess I do, don’t I? There’s just so much out there I don’t know.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sirius nodded. “Honestly, I love Hogwarts, but sometimes...I feel like I could do more. So I do. You know what I mean?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I know exactly what you mean!” Owen’s face broke out in a massive smile. Looking at him, Sirius couldn’t help but smile back. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So, do you wanna come see what I’ve been working on?” he asked.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Owen glanced at the pile of books on the table, and Sirius half expected him to say </span>
  <em>
    <span>no, we should get back to work</span>
  </em>
  <span>, when he said, “Yeah. I think I do.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sirius could barely hide his excitement. He wasted no time in leading Owen out of the library, and once they got to their destination (carefully making sure that no one was watching), he pulled out none other than an incomplete Marauder's Map. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It went just like he thought it would. Owen was so impressed by the map (even though it was nowhere near being finished) that he made Sirius walk him through every step they’d gone through in creating it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And just like that, they started spending a lot more time together. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Looking back, Sirius realizes he might have been a bit of a bad influence. They brought out completely new sides in each other. It wasn’t a bad thing, in fact, it’s one of the things he loved about Owen. Admittedly, though, Owen’s record was completely clean before he’d met Sirius. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sirius cringes as he remembers all the ways he’d tried to impress Owen by bringing him into trouble. He would smuggle in banned objects from Hogsmede, sneak into the forbidden section of the library with him, even include him in some of his more rebellious actions. For some reason though, it always worked. Even if they got caught, they would walk out of detention laughing, ready to do it all over again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>One thing that was consistent with their relationship was how Owen always wanted to talk Sirius’ ear off about magic, and how Sirius always wanted to listen. His favorite subject was magical objects. He read about them, talked about them, dabbled in creating them. He would never pass up the opportunity to look at them himself, especially after Sirius showed him that rules and customs were really only suggestions.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So when Sirius told him all about James’s invisibility cloak, Owen had to see it in person.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sirius knows exactly where he needs to go next. He follows his past self into the castle, but it takes him a bit longer to find them. By the time he does, James has already gotten his cloak back from Owen, and is just leaving with Peter and Remus to sneak back up to Gryffindor tower. Sirius’s younger self stays behind, assuring his friends that he’ll meet them later. If it were any other circumstance, the other Marauders would’ve all shared a suggestive look, and before any of them could say anything, the younger Sirius would have hissed, “Don’t you </span>
  <em>
    <span>dare,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>and that would’ve been the end of it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Instead, they part in silence. James, Remus, and Peter go down the hall, and younger Sirius makes his way into an adjacent empty classroom.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sirius slips in behind him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The room is empty, save for a few scattered desks. The dust floats around in the air, illuminated by the moonlight drifting in through the window. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And sitting at one of the desks, looking decidedly anxious, is someone that Sirius realizes he isn’t ready to see. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Owen is smaller than he remembers. He’s thin, almost scrawny, and his body barely takes up his seat. When he looks up, his eyes are bright, though he’s quick to turn all his focus to his fidgeting hands.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The sight nearly breaks Sirius’s heart.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks for covering for me,” says Owen after Sirius’s younger self shuts the door.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s no problem,” Sirius grumbles. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s fine.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not,” Owen insists. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t realize how much it meant to him.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, maybe you should’ve thought about that before you decided to steal it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There’s an uncomfortable silence in the room. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Owen opens his mouth to say something—probably another apology, but younger Sirius interrupts before he can.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“This stealing habit is getting out of hand,” he says. “It’s one thing to take something stupid from Filch’s confiscated drawer, but it’s another to steal something from my best friend. You can’t just take things that are important to people. How would you like it if someone did that to you? What if you told me about something important to you and I decided to just take it because I thought it looked cool?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Owen is silent.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You can’t go around doing things like that.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” Owen says. “I was going to give it back.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sirius runs a hand through his hair. “It doesn’t matter if you were going to give it back. You still took it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I really am sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sirius sighs. “I know. I’m not really mad, I’m just…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you disappointed? Let down?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don't know,” Sirius admits. “I just don’t get it. What’s gotten into you?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Owen stares at his feet. After a moment, he looks up to meet Sirius’ eyes. “You take magic for granted.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sirius gives him a strange look.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s just that…” He frowns. “You’re Pureblood, so you’ve lived your whole life with magic. I didn’t realize I was magic until I got some crazy letter in the mail, and I thought it was some sort of trick at first. Magic is real? That’s mad. Sure, weird things would happen to me sometimes, but I never thought much of it. I was completely normal. A normal eleven-year-old boy from London, destined to lead a completely normal, boring life just like my parents and my friends and every one of my ancestors. And then the letter was real. And Hogwarts was real, and magic was </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Sometimes I can barely believe that this is my life. That I get to wake up every day and learn how to turn mice into boxes, and make things float or vanish into thin air. It’s like I’m living in a dream.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He shakes his head. “But you just...grew up this way. Magic is normal for you. You didn’t have any catching up to do when you came to Hogwarts, because you always knew what was in store for you. Sometimes I feel like there’s things I’ll never understand about the Wizarding world because I wasn’t born here, so I do as much as I can to learn, not just so that I’m not falling behind, but so I can feel like I’m not taking all of this for granted. If I don’t take advantage of this, then why should it be me here instead of somebody else? I know so many Muggles who could be a better Wizard than me. I know I got carried away with the whole...stealing things. I’m sorry for that, and I know I shouldn’t have stolen James’ cloak. When you told me about it, it just became another thing I had to know more about. I guess what I’m trying to say is...I don’t want to take magic for granted.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sirius watches his younger self consider for a moment. “I never thought about it that way.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Owen says. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re a great wizard, Owen. Don’t forget that. You do deserve to be here just like everyone else. I know that whatever you do when you graduate, you’ll be great.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sirius’s younger self smiles. “Just don’t ever do something as stupid as this again.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Owen chuckles. “I won’t.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Good,” the younger Sirius says. “Besides, James needed to be reminded that he’s not all-powerful. His ego was getting a bit too big, in my opinion.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe I should’ve stolen that instead,” Owen remarks. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“A bold mission, but you would have needed an insane amount of luck to get it away from him.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s true. Even if I did manage to take it from him, I don’t think I have the strength to lift that massive thing.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They share a laugh. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sirius’s younger self grasps Owen’s hands in his. He leans forward. “Even if you’re stupid and reckless sometimes, I still fancy you,” he whispers. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Me, too,” says Owen. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They stay like that for a moment, before the younger Sirius pulls away.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I think it’s about time I go to bed,” he says.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When Owen doesn’t get up, Sirius gives him an inquisitive look.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll catch up with you in a sec,” he says.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With that, Sirius’s younger self leaves the room, leaving Owen a warm smile as he shuts the door. Owen’s gaze stays transfixed on the closed door. He furrows his brow. Sirius wishes he could know what he was thinking at that very moment.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It really wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that Sirius had to see him again like this. Leaning on the side of the desk, with his foot tapping restlessly and his face a mixture of confusion and happiness, he looks so young. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And he was young. They were all so, so young when it happened—barely graduated from</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hogwarts, ready to fight in a war before they had the chance to even live their lives. They were young, but the war stripped their youth away from them. They all had to grow up fast. In the end, not all of them got that chance to go on. There was James and Lily.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And there was Owen. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you,” Sirius finds himself saying, even though he knows Owen can’t hear him. “I was so reckless and stupid. I thought I could save everyone. I was scared, but I was sure I was making the right decision. The Death Eaters said I had to choose between you or the Muggles, and I thought that I would have enough time to save you and do what Dumbledore sent us to do. I was wrong,” Sirius chokes out.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He takes a shaky breath. He feels his eyes begin to burn. “But...deep down, I knew I didn’t have enough time to save you, too. They told me to choose who lives, and I didn’t choose you. I let you die. I’m so, so sorry. If I had been there for you back then...then you’d still be here now. I let you die.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sirius shuts his eyes. It hurts to hold the tears back, but he can’t bring himself to cry like this in front of Owen. He knows that if he lets go, it won’t be the quiet kind of crying, it’ll be the ugly, violent kind, that shakes your whole body and leaves you exhausted. Even though Owen can’t see him, he doesn’t want to do it in front of him. Not when he’s so young. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sirius,” someone says. A ghosts’ voice, as unsubstantial as Sirius is now, a solemn echo of what used to be real. Sirius is hit with the same empty apathy he felt when he fell into this memory. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Soft, warm hands grasp his own. Not cold and empty, but solid, almost living, like someone is really there with him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sirius,” Owen’s voice says. And for a moment, Sirius almost believes that Owen is really there with him. That he’s not just a spectator reliving old memories, or a dead man lost in his past.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Slowly, Sirius takes in a deep breath. Once he feels he regained some composure, he dares a glance back at Owen. But when Sirius looks at him again, it isn’t a boy who looks back at him, but a young man. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Before Sirius can react, Owen gives him the smile that he fell in love with. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m here,” Owen says softly, “It’s good to see you again.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What? How?” Sirius chokes out. He tries to say more, but he can’t form words.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, we’re both dead,” Owen says bluntly. “I think that has something to do with it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Despite himself, Sirius laughs. “It’s actually you?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess so,” Owen says. He reaches a hand up and brushes a tear off of Sirius’s cheek. “I’ve been dead for a long time. I’m sorry you feel that way about my death. I don’t blame you, I could never. It wasn’t your fault.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“If I had been there, if I had gone after you instead—”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Then they would’ve killed you, too,” Owen tells him. “Sometimes, there is no right choice, no better outcome. You had to make a decision, and you did. You did all you could.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I know. And I forgive you,” Owen says. “Everything you do, you have a reason. There’s so much passion inside of you, and I’ve always admired that. You never would have done a thing to hurt me, or hurt anyone innocent. And in that moment, you chose what was good for others, not for yourself. Both of us knew exactly what we were sacrificing by fighting the Death Eaters. I was always prepared to give my life to stop them.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You shouldn’t have had to even think about sacrificing yourself. None of us should have. It’s not fair. You would have lived an incredible life, done so many amazing things.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“War isn’t fair. It was my life or many others, each with just as much potential,” he says. “I want you to know that I’ll always forgive you. You could make a million mistakes, and I will be there to support you through every one. Even after I was gone, I was still cheering for you, every step of the way.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sirius makes himself look up at Owen. Owen’s spirit must have somehow come here to meet him, because he looks the same as the last time Sirius ever saw him, the day he died. Sirius opens his mouth to speak, but there’s too much to say. So many questions, so many apologies. Even though he doesn’t say anything, Owen seems to be able to read every half-baked thought as if it’s written across Sirius’s face. Owen’s eyes soften. He smiles, and Sirius can’t help but smile back, even through his tears. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There’s silence for a moment as Sirius takes it in. That Owen is here. That, somehow, he can hear Sirius and talk to him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Is this real?” Sirius asks. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Does it feel real?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I...I don’t know. Nothing feels real since I died. I thought I was some sort of ghost.” He takes a breath. “How am I even talking to you? I couldn’t talk to James.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I think I’m the one you needed to talk to,” Owen says. “That’s why I’m here.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s really you?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s really me,” he reassures. He sighs. “I’ve always wondered. Was there anyone else after me?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Sirius confesses, “There was only ever you. I guess I never had the chance to move on. It wasn’t too long after you died that I went to Azkaban, and after that, I was on the run. Between all that, there wasn’t any time to find someone.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s alright,” he says. “Even after all that time, I still loved you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I love you, too.” Owen squeezes his hand.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sirius is content to stay in this moment forever. It’s as if he’d been living with a gaping wound in his chest, but instead of healing over time, Sirius only got used to the pain. Now, something is happening that’s making it start to heal, and he realizes that it’s possible to not have to bear this weight. He can simply be content. He can relax, and not have to worry about a million different things. The past happened. It left scars he will always have. But he can still move forward, whatever forward is, after death. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Sirius begins, looking into Owen’s bright eyes, “for never taking anything for granted.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Owen smiles. “That’s one thing I would always strive for.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Truly,” he emphasizes. “Watching you always giving everything into every opportunity? It inspired me to do the same thing. I spent a lot of my life worrying about my past.” He traces slow circles with his thumb on their joined hands. “But once I escaped from Azkaban, there was so much for me to catch up on. The world had changed so much. I was lucky enough to see a lot of it, but I was on the run. There was always something for me to worry about that prevented me from doing what I wanted or needed. And right after I got out, Harry was all grown up and going to Hogwarts, so I did everything I could to be there for him. There’s still so much I wanted to show him, so much I wanted to do with him.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The only opportunities you didn’t take were the ones the circumstances took away from you. Even then, you were able to do so much for Harry. I know he’ll treasure every one of those moments.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I hope so.” He squeezes Owen’s hand. “Maybe I can even believe so. Maybe I can believe that there are things in my life I can be proud of.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, there’s plenty of those.” Owen says. “Your devastating good looks, for one—”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He interrupts himself with a laugh. Sirius laughs at the sight of Owen’s grinning face and bright, glowing eyes, and before long, the two of them can’t seem to stop. They laugh until they’re gasping for breath, and then collapse back into laughter immediately after.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually, they’re able to stop. It happens slowly, but even when they are sitting together, not speaking, simply being with each other, they still feel the same content. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Owen looks down, furrowing his brow. After a moment, he stands, then walks to the center of the room. “I think it’s about time we got out of here.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Owen offers his hand to Sirius. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you want to see something cool?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sirius gives him an amused look. “Where are we going?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“On,” Owen says simply.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sirius smiles. “I think I do.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi, reader. It took me a while to write this, because I wrote the first two paragraphs, then waited two months and wrote the rest of it, then waited like half a year and added a few more scenes. But now I've decided I need to be done re-writing this and just let it exist without being an endless WIP. I hope it turned out well.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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